What the Single Dad Wants... Read Online Free Page B

soothing your bruised ego over having your authority usurped,” she said. “You know where to reach me if you decide you want to give me a lecture for old times’ sake.”
    With that, Isabelle terminated the call.
    What she’d just said to her sister replayed itself in her head. She still couldn’t believe this was happening. It really did seem more like a dream. Anastasia Del Vecchio, her all-time favorite childhood idol, was insisting that she move in with her. Granted, it was in the capacity of a servant—or so the woman thought, Isabelle amended—but the bottom line was that she was still moving in.
    Moving in with Anastasia Del Vecchio. It definitely had a nice ring to it.
    So did living in Brandon Slade’s house, even if he hadn’t been her all-time favorite author. But he was.She’d read every one of his ten thrillers, several at least twice. Once for pleasure and once to scrutinize whether or not there were any small holes in the fabric of his plot that she might have missed the first time around. There never were. The man was incredible.
    And good-looking enough to stop a woman’s heart, she added now.
    The call over, Isabelle closed the clam shell, slipped the cell phone into her pocket and then turned around. If Zoe wanted to get in touch with her regarding having her authority cavalierly usurped, to put it in her sister’s terminology, all she had to do was call. Her phone was always on.
    But for the life of her, Isabelle couldn’t think of a single reason her sister would object. Having Anastasia Del Vecchio listed as a former client would do wonders for their references. And their website.
    Mentally, Isabelle crossed her fingers that Zoe—once her sister got around to listening to her messages—wouldn’t find some flimsy reason to object to her living on the premises.
    The moment she’d put the cell away and turned around, Anastasia was on her. “Well?” she demanded, the violet eyes pinning her in place.
    â€œLooks like I’ll be moving in for a while,” Isabelle replied with a soft smile.
    It was obvious by Anastasia’s manner that she had expected nothing less. “Wonderful.” The actress smiled regally, a queen prepared to be magnanimous with her subjects. “Brandon, why don’t you be a dear and show Isabelle just where she’ll be staying? And if she needs help bringing her things over—”
    Working with this woman, Isabelle thought, was going to definitely be a challenge. If she wasn’t careful,the living legend would just roll right over her and flatten her without even realizing she was doing it.
    â€œIf you don’t mind,” Isabelle said, interrupting the woman before the actress got even further carried away, “I’ll take a look at the room later. Right now I’d like to get started working with you.” Slipping off the light jacket she was wearing, she mentally rolled up her sleeves. “I want to assess just what we need to do so I can work up a proper schedule.”
    Anastasia didn’t see the need for all that foreplay. Not when she knew exactly what needed to be done. “We need to get me upright and dancing, of course.”
    Out of the corner of her eye, Isabelle caught the smile that curved Brandon’s mouth. Ruggedly handsome, he still had very fine features, and his mouth was just short of being described as delicate. Something, she noted, that he had obviously inherited from his mother.
    â€œGood luck with that,” she heard him tell her almost under his breath.
    And just for the space of a breath, they shared a moment as his eyes made contact with hers—and then he winked.
    Isabelle felt the ripple of that wink right in the pit of her stomach. Dedicated and no one’s pushover, she was still very much a novice when it came to socializing outside of her work. She could hold her own in any conversation as long as certain